


caught in the riptide, it pulls me back to you

by Kidfish



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Smut, everyone makes an appearance - Freeform, found family because they all deserve to be happy, the gang's all here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kidfish/pseuds/Kidfish
Summary: As soon she starts to imagine this, a life where she spends her days with the other girls, laughing on the island and where she spends her nights with Toni, breathless under the twinkling constellations, Leah staggers back to their camp one day, covered in blood.Toni's blood.And the fantasy shatters completely. Because, of course it fucking doesor: Shelby and Toni, post 1x10 where the shark attack never happened
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke, Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 47
Kudos: 635





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was brought to you guys by overprotective!Shelby and hurt!Toni.
> 
> Some side Leah/Fatin because I'm quickly becoming obsessed with them. Also, I just needed more group dynamics of the group being happy together on the island :')
> 
> Explicit rating doesn't come until the next chapter, get ready for some soft smut before the angst
> 
> Title from the song 'Here with Me" by Robert Koch and Susie Suh
> 
> Enjoy!

Shelby can’t say she’s comfortable living on a deserted island, sharing the remains of goat carcass and bottles of Diet Coke and passion fruit flavored La Croix with the seven other girls, but it’s certainly gotten easier over time. They all develop a routine again and go about their days on a relatively similar schedule: gathering extra wood for the fire or scavenging the island for any other sources of food. Since she has the most hunting experience, Shelby usually goes exploring with Martha, looking for any plant that looks remotely edible. Martha’s the same, if not a little more quiet, after the whole goat situation so Shelby makes sure to turn them around if she sees any animal in their way, just in case. She also steers Martha clear of the lychee tree and its surrounding vicinities. As far as she knows, no one else has found the lychee tree so it kinda becomes her and Toni's secret meeting spot. Shelby likes it that way. 

Rachel and Leah swim out in the ocean every other day, seeing if they can find any other remains of the crash or any other stray luggage. This time when they go out swimming, they leave Nora behind, which she is clearly appreciative of. Leah finds a bag of chips (everyone is disappointed when they see it isn’t Takis) and Rachel discovers a few more cans of La Croix. Although no one mentions it out loud, they all notice Rachel’s gradual shift in behavior. She mellows out, treats Nora better, and actually starts joking around with the rest of them. Leah feels the effects of this change the most, since they’re in the water several hours a day together and Rachel lets up on her, listening this time when Leah tells her she’s too tired to swim anymore.

Fatin helps out in the way she does best and makes these mud-face masks with some clay she found out at the waterfall. Shelby admits, it _does_ feel good on her sun-damaged skin. They take a lazy afternoon and have “a spa day”, because Fatin insists, which is fun until Dot screams when she finds a worm on her face and it goes downhill pretty quickly from there. 

Dot tends to the fire and keeps up on her inventory, cataloging each new thing a girl brings back to their makeshift campsite. Toni hangs around the fire and doesn’t really do much except keep Dot company and help with inventory. Shelby hears them talk about their dads together one time when she and Martha return with an armful of onion grass. She gets jealous, even if she shouldn’t (it’s one of the seven deadly sins after all), that Toni is choosing Dot over her to talk about this, but then she remembers the awful whispers around school when Dot’s dad first got sick and then only progressed when his condition worsened. And she remembers her own horrible situation with her father and maybe she’s just jealous they’re talking about it, because God, what she wouldn’t give to tell someone about her situation and understand. 

Exactly six days after Shelby and Toni wake up in the forest the first time (she specifies the first time because while they definitely don’t make it a habit, there was a particularly memorable night two days ago that left them both exhausted, causing them to fall asleep and accidentally spend the night under the lychee tree again. Shelby blushes at just the thought of the memory. Maybe it’s a little crude to measure time on the island from the last night that Toni had sex with her, but honestly, there weren’t many other time keeping options available so she made due with the best she could.), they finally strike gold. In both a literal and figurative sense. Dot and Toni land a hit on a stray seagull and then another, and another, with a second slingshot made from plans Nora drew up in her notebook, and they have some sort of feast for dinner that night.

When Dot passes her the bottle of hand sanitizer so she can clean her bloody hands after she finishes preparing the seagull meat to be cooked, Shelby tries not to notice how much lighter the weight of the bottle feels in her hand. Thankfully, Dot doesn’t seem to notice, just trades the bottle for the meat so she can put it on the fire, since she’s still raving about their luck with the slingshot to Fatin and anyone else who’d listen

“....not saying I believe in God or anything, but it had to be a miracle for Toni to make that shot ‘cuz y’all know my aim’s for shit.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rachel says, taking a long drawl from the smaller vodka bottle they’d found in Jeanette’s suitcase.

“Here, here,” Fatin echoes, making grabby hands at Rachel for the alcohol.

“Hey now, don’t be done with the alcohol before our dinner’s even cooked,” Shelby says, sounding too much like her mother scolding her younger siblings.

Everyone gathers around the fire, sitting on various branches or suitcases or in Martha’s case, Marcus, talking loudly, excited by the promise of more food. Shelby finishes cleaning her hands off and sits in the open spot between Fatin and Dot, who gives her a slightly odd look. 

They talk amongst themselves as the meat cooks but once it’s done, everyone quiets down until the only thing can be heard is the crackling of the fire and the furtive chewing of their mouths on the gamey meat. In a strange, twisted way it reminds Shelby of the Girl Scout camping trips she used to take with Becca and their troop every summer. Only instead of s’mores and a campground that’s supervised by parents and Texas Park Rangers, it’s seagull meat and some unknown island in the middle of the ocean. Funny how life can be so similar sometimes.

Once everyone is nearly finished eating, Fatin stands up, wobbling a little, waving the vodka bottle around in one hand and that godforsaken toothbrush, even though it's broken, in the other. 

“Now I don’t know if all this white girl shit is rubbing off on me, in that case, fuck you,” she points an accusatory finger at each Leah, Dot, and Shelby.

“Go home Fatin, you’re drunk,” Toni heckles from her spot next to Martha and Nora.

Fatin, still looking at Leah, somehow manages to give Toni her middle finger but still holds onto her toothbrush at the same time. Shelby’s a little impressed. 

“Well I would if I could, but I can’t so I guess you’re stuck with me, Shalifoe,” Fatin sits down. 

“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted-” Fatin throws a glare in Toni’s direction. Toni sticks her tongue out back at her- “I was thinking we should do some toasts. Show some appreciation for each other for surviving together for this long or whatever.”

She rocks forward and Shelby’s terrified she’s going to fall into the fall and burn to a crisp, but Fatin just rocks back and steadies herself. The only problem? She steadies herself by grabbing onto the nearest thing available, which are one of Shelby and Leah’s legs respectively. Fatin’s hand lands on the skin of Shelby’s thigh, just to the right of the center of her leg. Shelby hears Leah’s sharp, but quiet intake of breath as Fatin grips both of their legs. She feels her face heat up in a way that has nothing to do with the raging fire in front of them. No one has ever touched her leg here, so far up, almost at her hip, except of course, Toni. The thought makes her cheeks heat up even more and she looks up to see Toni already watching her from across the fire. She squirms on the piece of driftwood she’s sitting on.

“I know you’re horny Fatin but it sounds like you’re suggesting an orgy not just a compliment circle,” Dot comments. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with orgies. Or compliments. Or compliment orgies, I should know.”

Dot reaches over to cup Fatin’s knee. “Already told you, I’m just a cargo pant enthusiast, not a lesbian.”

“Bummer,” Fatin sticks out her bottom lip and pouts.

“There are other things besides lesbian. You could be bi,” Leah speaks up, not looking Fatin in the eye. “I am.”

A few people around the fire look shocked. Shelby knows she’s one of them, just because of the bizarre nature of conversation happening right in front of her. She considers what Leah’s said, to like both genders. She’s talked to Toni about it a few more times since her little freak out since the first time they slept together. Shelby thinks back to Andrew and realizes there wasn’t really much to like about him at all. He wasn’t even good arm candy apparently, according to Dot. Obviously, she doesn’t have it all figured out, doesn’t expect herself to, but maybe she’s inching closer to something that feels like tentative acceptance every day. 

Back outside of her own head, the others are still reeling from the bomb that Leah’s dropped.

“Come on, I go to art school. I cuff my jeans.”

“What’s wrong with cuffing your jeans?” Dot whispers to Martha, who after looking at Toni, giggles. 

“I do find it sad to statistically limit yourself to just half of the world’s population. It feels like I’m wasting my potential. I want to live up to my fullest sexual potential, uninhibited by gender,” Nora says to Toni but also to no one in particular.

“Right on,” Toni holds out her hand and they fist bump.

“How come I never knew that?” Fatin asks, ignoring Dot’s question and sounding remarkably sober. There’s a semi-awestruck look on her face. 

“Like you said, you didn’t really know I existed five weeks ago, let alone talk to me at school.” Leah’s voice is quiet.

“Huh,” Fatin’s sigh is contemplative and Shelby can almost hear the wheels turning in her inebriated brain. Maybe she’s not as good at picking up on sexual tension as she thought, Shelby thinks wrly. 

“Anyway, I’ll start since I suggested it,” Fatin’s voice returns to its normal, less misty sounding pitch. “A toast to Toni, who knew that bitch could hit three-pointers and seagulls like they were the same thing.”

Toni stands up and takes a few bows. “It’s true, it’s true. My aim is that good.”

Suddenly, memories flit into Shelby’s brain and snuggles itself into the crooks and cracks of her thoughts. Half-naked in the forest next to a fruit tree laughing with a beautiful girl. Toni pelting her with lychee nuts, desperately trying to get one down the front of her bra. Eating fruit straight out of Toni’s hand and smearing it across her lips before kissing it off. Other deeper, more private memories, ones that she definitely shouldn’t be thinking around seven other people, but she can’t help herself. 

As if she knows exactly how Shelby’s thoughts are torturing her, Toni meets her gaze and holds it from her place across the fire. There’s a brazen intensity in Toni’s eyes, blatantly roaming over her body in the firelight like she wants to pull Shelby aside and pull all of her offending clothes off that are obstructing her access to Shelby’s skin. She reminds herself, Toni is probably (definitely) thinking about that now. 

To her credit, Toni doesn’t break her eye contact with Shelby while she continues to bow and thank Fatin, working the crowd so the attention is on her instead of Shelby. Her chest fills with affection for Toni, the way they’ve been able to tune into each other’s needs so easily, even without speaking. She supposes it’s because she’s been zoned into Toni from the very first moment on the plane, even unwittingly, not entirely sure of the pull she felt drawing her into Toni’s orbit, but knowing and feeling it existing there. She recognizes it now, the feeling of attraction mixed with something with much more emotional depth: the feeling of being truly seen, understood. Toni was able to read her in a split second, push past the bullshit, break down the walls of expectations she’d built to protect herself, and strip away everything else until she saw the real Shelby, the one person she rarely got to be. 

(It was jarring and it terrified her more than anything else in her life, even when her father confronted her about kissing Becca, his quiet, contained rage (disgust) only visible in the way his hands shook, or backstage at the last pageant she attended-she refused to compete anymore-hearing those girls gossip about Becca killing herself like she wasn’t even a real person, like it wasn’t entirely Shelby’s fault, or when her father dropped her off at the airport and wouldn’t let her hug her younger siblings goodbye, his strict instructions to “come back fixed” ringing in her ear and her responding whisper of “yes, sir”, not even crashing onto a deserted island scared her as much looking into Toni’s eyes for the first time and seeing herself, laid bare, reflecting back in the other girl’s guarded, dark pupils. They really were different sides of the same coin.

In a few seconds, Toni saw into her soul in a way no one else had, even Becca. The terrifying part was forcing herself to gradually accept it as reality. Last time, it feels like a lifetime ago, when she had acted on that swirling feeling in her gut, the magnetic pull between her and Becca’s lips, surrounded by pillows of lemon-flavored satin, it had ended abruptly like she was stepping on a landmine she had buried herself, radiating damage and hurt and _pain_ in all directions. And she had _run_ , not even having the decency to witness the destruction she had caused, leaving Becca stunned in her hurt on the steps of her porch and not seeing her again until her funeral, ten days later. But on the island, if there was one thing good about it, at least it gave Shelby time to think.

Don’t get her wrong, she ran this time too. Well, in the beginning, she had argued, clinging to the belief system she was raised on but maybe not completely believing it anymore, starting at least one verbal sparring match that ended with Shelby shooting quick, furtive glances down to Toni’s lips. But the island wasn’t the suburban albeit conservative neighborhood of her hometown, running for sure meant separating from their camp, minimal or no access to food, and high probability of injury and while there were a lot of hiding spots on the island, none of them were sustainable for a teenage girl. In short, running and hiding meant sudden death, or worse, confrontation with the wildlife on the island. So she did the next best thing: avoided Toni like how she avoided her younger sister when she had chicken pox until she couldn’t anymore. Until her curiosity (paranoia?) got the better of her when she saw Toni talking and laughing with Martha, Shelby had confronted Toni, knowing the other girl could hear the fear and anxiety in her voice. Then, she had drank, thought, and drank some more until she was so splashed out on cheap vodka nothing made sense anymore, especially not her feelings for Toni, whatever she felt. Until she sobered up talking to Leah and had realized she was pushing away the one person who had stuck by her side, had realized she was doing the exact thing her father had warned her about, except it was out of fear instead of love. She was still scared, but the fog that had lingered lifted from her eyes like Jesus healing Bartimaeus from his blindness.) 

Hearing her name brings Shelby out of her thoughts, finally taking her eyes off of Toni’s frame, and back to the group around fire.

“...to Shelby and her own little Bear Grylls knife. Thank God, someone took the job of skinning our dinner. I can eat seagulls but I draw the line at picking feathers out of my teeth,” says Fatin, who’s standing up again, teetering precariously. She holds her hand out to Shelby and she takes it, more to give Fatin some much needed balance than anything else, but she’s being whisked out of her seat and up next to Fatin. 

“Oh, um, I am unprepared for this,” she laughs nervously. 

Fatin hangs onto her shoulder, awkwardly since she has a few inches on Shelby, and her legs are bent considerably for her desire to be the same height as Shelby. Out of all of them, Fatin is probably the touchiest, next to her, but with Fatin, there’s an easiness in her affection that’s the result of years of absentminded physicality, of knowing what she wanted and knowing exactly how to use her body to get it. 

To be honest, Shelby’s a little envious; she could only imagine the relaxation Fatin exhibits when she interacts with the rest of the girls. Even though she grew up in a reasonably affectionate household, her parents gradually shifted towards the twins once they were born, doting more on them and leaving Shelby to be the poised and perfect first born her parents expected her to be. And looking back on it now, she never liked when Andrew or any other boys would touch her and with girls, there was always a slight uncomfortable buzzing on her fingertips, like she knew her own intentions were double-sided, right before she made contact with their skin. There was a thrill to it, like she was playing a game with herself, a dangerous one, testing the limits of how far she would let herself go, before pulling back. A brush on the arm there, knocking knees together under the lunch tables there, she could only compare the feeling to the one time Andrew took her on the back of his BMX bike, out of control but addictive as hell, and the feeling of hurtling towards an inevitable crash.

And there was a crash, no twisting of metal and rubber, but Becca’s words hitting her and leaving contusions on her body, her fear spreading like road rash on her own skin, turning her heart into a mangled lump of hurt and fear and shame. It only worsened when Shelby heard the news of Becca's death and in the aftermath of the funeral and the weeks that followed, a new emotion joined the conglomerate in her heart: guilt. Sometimes on the nights when she felt the pity sit particularly heavy on her chest, the weight of it reopening her old fears and hurts, the masochistic part of her would replay her last conversation with Becca over and over again inside of her head, just to wallow in it, because it was the least she could do, to be plagued by the same fear and guilt that had overtook Becca, to suffer alongside her. 

But that was months ago, even if it feels like years, and the bruises for the most part had faded and the abrasions had scabbed over and scarred. She still thinks about Becca nearly everyday, but the pain has subsided from something surface-level to a settling ache in her bones. Plus, nothing like replacing the trauma of your ex-best-friend-who-you-kissed-once committing suicide with the new, terrifying ordeal of trying to survive (physically and mentally) on an island when you're in the middle of (finally) feeling something akin to acceptance about your sexuality, or at least, acknowledgement. And Toni's helped of course, letting Shelby take whatever they're doing together at her pace. She doesn't know about Becca, at least not the whole story, and Shelby's not ready to divulge that information, not yet. Regardless, Toni stays. She stays and listens and holds her when they're alone, and meets her eyes when no one else is paying attention.

So when Toni locks eyes with her while Fatin hooks an arm around her neck, Shelby understands and she relaxes into Fatin's embrace. After nearly a month together, she's familiar with the smell of Fatin's perfume and now, pressed together, the earthy aroma washes over her, even under the scent of salt and sweat they've all acquired from weeks next to the ocean. The combination is undeniably Fatin and there's only one word Shelby can use to describe it: expensive. 

“I'm picking you to go next, Shelby. For our toasts,” Fatin stage-whispers into her ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. Her breath is hot against Shelby’s skin and reeks of alcohol, no doubt from the bottle she’s been nursing on all night. Shelby helps Fatin sit back down so she’s less of a fire hazard and racks her brain, her thoughts slow from the affection she feels for everyone and the alcohol that’s in her own body.

“Well, I think this should be obvious,” Shelby turns, “but my toast is to Dottie, who’s saved all of our asses more times than I can count. And to whom I’m forever grateful for.”

“Language, Texas” Fatin slurs, spread out across their driftwood bench, her head in Leah’s lap.

Shelby beams down at Dot and she swears the other girl is blushing, or her cheeks are unnaturally pink in front of the fire.

“No need to get sentimental on me, dude,” Dot says, but when Shelby sits back down Dot’s hand finds hers and squeezes, just once, before standing up.

“So my toast might be unconventional, but still, I’m thankful for it, and the person who provided.” Dot whips around and shoots two finger guns in Martha’s direction.

“Ladies and gentlemen, well Marcus, give it up for what started it all, Martha’s cupcake bra!”

There’s a beat of silence before everyone erupts into cheers, Toni clapping Martha on the tops of her shoulders and jostling her, Rachel putting her fingers between her mouth and letting out a loud wolf whistle. It reminds Shelby of their youth soccer team, the one Dot’s dad used to coach, when they won the spring championship and the whole team went out to Bojangles’ to celebrate and she ended up squished in booth, sipping ice cold Cheerwine and giggling next to Becca as they tried to color their nails with crayons from the kid’s menu. Only like this, surrounded by seven other girls, who, by definition, she’d consider acquaintances at best, but somehow know her better than anyone else in the world, it’s infinitely better. 

Martha bends down, digging for something in the sand, and pulls out the contraption that won them all their dinner, complete with the faded, very non-white bra with cartoon dancing cupcakes. The cheering gets louder as Martha thrusts it into the air like she just one a gold medal at the Olympics. Shelby joins in, laughing. She hears Toni shout, “that’s my girl, Marty! The Unsinkable Eight survives another day.”

“Dude,” Fatin rises up like a reanimated corpse, “Don’t say that, you’ll bring some like bad voodoo vibes to the island.”

“Come on, it’s not like there’s dolls of each one of us that someone can stick pins into,” Toni says. 

“Fatin’s right. The last thing we need is a curse or some shit. The island’s creepy enough as is. It skeeves me out,” Leah interrupts from her place next to Fatin. 

“It’s chill, I was just messing around. This place knows what’s good.” Toni makes a show of standing up and cupping her hands. 

“We cool, island?” Toni sits back down. 

Obviously, there’s no response, but a few of the girls laugh, the tension dissipating.

“Okay, I wanna go next. I have a good one,” Martha giggles, nearly bouncing up and down.

“God, who invited the Energizer Bunny?” Dot mumbles, but it’s without malice. 

“I know this might be cliché but my toast is my OG, my main guy, Marcus.” Martha practically squeals. “And I have a surprise!”

“Are you gonna finally tell us you’ve been dry humping Marcus this whole time and using him as your hot, legless, manikin sex doll?” Fatin asks, deadpan.

“Um, no.” Martha’s face is all types of confused, her mouth hanging open.

Everyone peers over to look at Fatin, who shrugs, “Well, it’s what I would have done.”

Shelby is the first one to break the stunned silence. “Fatin, are you sure you don’t need to spend some quality time with your toothbrush?”

“And get the mother of all yeast infections? Girl, no. I’ve been debating that with myself since day 20. Life’s a bitch.” Fatin sighs. 

Nora pops her head up. “Can’t you just ask Toni to give you a hand, so to speak? She is our resident shellfish-connoisseur.”

Several things happen at once and it’s a miracle Shelby is able to keep track of all of them. First, her whole body tightens in a way she knows the others will notice, but not know the real reason for. On the other side of Fatin, she sees Leah tense up as well, the edges of her mouth turned downward as she bites on her lip. Then, Fatin laughs so hard she snorts, undignified and loud, and they all laugh, except Toni. She’s looking at Shelby, her eyes soft, and God, Shelby wants to say something, anything, but fear keeps her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Fatin blows out all her air in a whistle, “Thanks, Nora. I needed a good laugh. If only it were that simple. Tragically, the whole athlete vibe-” she gestures to Toni, her hands waving from her legs to her body in complicated, spiraling patterns- “just doesn’t do it for me. Plus, if any of you know anything about astrology, you’d know we would never work out. No offense, Toni.”

“None taken. I probably can’t compare to your thousand dollar vibrator you keep at home anyway.” Toni says easily. It amazes Shelby, how she redirects the conversation away from everyone potentially finding out why the hand sanitizer bottle has lost half of its contents in less than a week. 

“Anyway, now that we’ve established that Fatin is constantly horny, as if we didn’t know already, I think Marty has something to say.”

“And I think you guys will like it. Shelby, can I borrow your knife?” 

“Of course,” Shelby takes the collapsible hunting knife from its home in the back right pocket of her shorts and tosses the knife over to Martha.

She’s so relieved the past conversation is over that maybe her throw is a little too enthusiastic so she overshoots and Toni ends up catching it instead. Their eyes meet again and Toni holds up the knife, her eyebrows raising. 

“Nice catch,” she mumbles. She can’t believe how quickly she turns into a bumbling idiot, even from a wordless look from Toni, just the small movement of her eyebrow. Toni looks down at her ragged shoelaces and smiles, a secret, private smile, one that Shelby knows is just for her, even though they’re surrounded by six other girls. It’s a smile that has exponentially increased its appearance around Shelby, particularly when they’re alone together. The first time she saw it, she was sitting next to Toni on the cliff after she had poured all of her fears and doubts out, almost trying to convince both Toni and herself to stop, that it wasn’t worth the pain. And Toni looked at her, her face soft and open, and smiled. _Something good_. It didn’t stop her fears, but rather slowed them down, a warmth in chest put by Toni’s words and her smile calmed her fears until they were sluggish and slow, crushed by this wonderful, tentative feeling of hope. 

“Okay, ready?” Martha’s crouching down next to Marcus’s body, hovering over where his dick would be, if he were a real man. She takes Shelby’s knife and starts jimmying it in the crease connecting the crotch to the inner thigh. 

“Martha?! What are you doing? You’re gonna sterilize him,” Fatin looks alarmed; rightly so, Shelby is unsure what Martha is doing herself, but Toni and Rachel seem to be grinning at each other.

“Almost there, sometimes the plastic melts back together.” Martha leans over the manikin, digging the knife harder into the body. Shelby notices Fatin visibly wince.

“Got it,” Martha says proudly. Shelby moves to get a closer look. Martha pulls out a square of plastic the size of a tissue box, revealing a secret compartment. Shelby’s stunned, Martha doesn’t seem like the person to hide things from the group, especially after the one too many lectures Dot has given out about her inventory, but here she is, wrist-deep into the apparent hiding spot she’d made in Marcus.

Martha pulls her hand out of Marcus, clutching a bag of something Shelby never thought she would see here, of all places.

“Are those…?” Leah asks.

“Cock cookies!” Toni and Rachel say together, gleeful. In Martha’s hand, the white and red packaging is unmistakable: a pack of Mint Milano’s.

“I can’t believe it,” Dot says, looking between Martha, Toni, and Rachel like she’s seeing the second coming of Christ happen in front of her. 

‘“Rachel found them a few days in one of the bags that washed up on the beach,” Toni looks at Dot. 

“And Martha had the idea of hiding them in Marcus until it looked like we could have at least a proper meal again-” Rachel explains.

“-and Toni helped me convert Marcus into a temporary storage container so the cookies wouldn’t melt. As much as they already had,” Martha finishes.

“Well y’all know how I feel about an incomplete inventory, but fuck, this is such a win I don’t even care.”

“I’ll pass them out.” Toni takes the bag from Martha and pries it open. Out of the corner of Shelby’s eye, she sees Nora glance at Rachel as she takes one. Rachel whispers something to Nora, but Shelby can’t hear it, can only see Rachel’s lips moving. They take a bite of each of their cookies, heads pressed close together, crumbs take up residence in the cracks of both of their chapped lips. It’s not her place anyway, but then Nora smiles, big and toothy, in a way Shelby has rarely seen on the island before, and it makes her heart ache for her younger siblings, just a moment. 

She’s so involved in watching Nora and Rachel that she doesn’t notice Toni making her way to her side of the fire. Although, she’s stopped in front of Fatin and Leah

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those stuck up pricks who doesn’t like mint and chocolate together,” Toni faces Fatin, who is sitting with her arms crossed and her jaw set.

“I’m just saying mint is firmly in the flavor category of toothpaste or like, old lady herbs.”

“Fine, more for me then,” Toni makes a show of taking the cookie that was intended to be Fatin’s and moves it towards her mouth.

“But, I will make an exception this time,” Fatin snatches the cookie away from Toni.

And then Toni’s right in front of her, looking at her expectantly with that softness in her eyes. It makes her melt, almost as much as the cookie in her hand, forgotten in front of the other girl. She craves to reach out, to touch, to kiss the chocolate smear that’s currently on the corner of Toni’s bottom lip. It’s the closest in proximity they’ve been all night and Shelby wants nothing more than to give into the pull that was created when Toni stepped into her space.

“Nice surprise,” it’s not her fault if her voice is a little breathless.

“Martha’s idea, I just helped,” Toni’s eyes track Shelby’s mouth as she bites into the half-melted cookie. It’s better than she expected, which isn’t saying much considering her standards for food have been deplorably low recently, and she can only vaguely taste a hint of sand.

In a movement that surprises herself, Shelby reaches up and brushes Toni’s cheek with her thumb, close enough to her lip that she feels Toni’s breath hitch against skin. It’d be so easy to move her hand, just a few centimeters to the left, and let her thumb ghost over the smudge of chocolate. 

“You have a…some chocolate,” it’s a wonder she’s even breathing at all. Shelby flashes back to their first time under the lychee tree; the parallel of Toni brushing the fruit off of her cheek makes her dizzy. 

Toni opens her mouth to speak, her knee brushing against Shelby’s own, but Dot’s voice interrupts her. 

“Yo Toni, bring those cookies over here. I wanna complete my island deluxe happy meal. Seagull, vodka, and a mint chocolate cookie,” Dot nods her head, “Yep, still better than school lunches.”

Toni stares at her for a second, unblinking. Then, like her brain remembered to start functioning again, “I’m with you on that. One time Marty found a hangnail in her salad and we spent the entire lunch period trying to figure out if it was from the lunch lady’s hand or foot.”

“Gross.” Shelby pushes Toni away with her foot but not before Toni looks back and winks, sending an instant trail of heat down her body. Her mouth drops open. She looks to Dot if the third girl saw their interaction but, bless her heart, Dot is oblivious. She might have the best wilderness skills but her people skills might be a little lacking, but then again, Shelby thinks Dot might prefer it that way. 

Once Toni passes the bag around to everyone, she sits back down and the group continues their toasts. Following Martha’s lead with naming something silly, Toni gives a shout out to Fatin’s underwear collection, a move that Shelby is 100% sure she made just to rile her up even more (it works), and everyone heartily agrees. Nora goes next and makes a comment about how seagulls are actually really intelligent bids but she’s glad the gulls on the island are the “really fucking stupid” ones. Rachel toasts to Dot again, but this time specifically leaves her aim out of the toast. Dot protests, but eventually concedes when Rachel asks her, “What are you gonna do about it, throw something at me?”

Since she's sitting to the left of Fatin, Leah is the last to go in their circle. At first she doesn't speak, just fidgets in her seat and Shelby catches the movement in the corner of her eye. She watches as Leah reaches up towards her temple, scratching the skin there, right next to the end of her eyebrow, almost impulsively, but then Fatin presses two fingers against the inside of Leah’s wrist and guides her hand away. Shelby looks around to see if anyone else saw what she had, but everyone else isn’t paying attention, or in Toni and Martha’s case, reclining against Marcus (right on his crotch, Shelby notes) and looking up at the night sky. She remembers Toni telling her about not being about to go to the planetarium and a pang of sadness curls in her stomach before realizing, Martha most definitely would have taught Toni all of the constellations. Shelby can practically see Martha and Toni bundled up together under the cold, Minnesota sky as Martha points up at the different stars. If it makes her eyes water for a second, thinking about the lives they used to have, the lives they’ll eventually, inevitably, have to return to, she doesn’t tell anyone. 

Her eyes flit back to Fatin and Leah and there’s a gentleness present between their interactions that didn’t exist when they first arrived on the island, or even two weeks in. She sees Fatin cup Leah’s face and whisper something to her, completely at ease, and something makes Shelby look away, feeling like she’s intruding on something tender, something intimate, but she doesn’t quite know exactly what it is. It’s such a drastic change from ferocity in Fatin’s eyes when she wiped her own blood on Leah’s face, Shelby has to wonder if that even happened at all or if it just got lost as a result of her brain slowly melting into a mirage.

“I don’t know if I have the authority to say this since I’ve never had one before, but it’s a nice feeling. Having a group of friends, I mean,” Leah says, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Getting soft on us, Leah?” Rachel laughs. 

But Nora, of all people, elbows her in the side. Shelby hears the puff of air leave Rachel’s lungs. 

“To friends,” Nora’s voice is unwavering, stronger than Shelby’s heard in a long time.

Everyone raises their various drinking containers in appreciation. Martha snuggles into Toni, who gives her arm a quick squeeze. A twinge of something like jealousy cuts through her until Dot leans over and whispers, “so wait, we’re not talking about the tv show?”

“Dottie,” Shelby rolls her eyes. 

The smile falls off of her face, just slightly, and Dot stiffens. Heart dropping into her stomach, she tries to backtrack but Dot puts a hand on her knee. It’s what surprises Shelby the most: Dot’s never been one for any physical contact, not like the others or even Rachel, who still accepts it from her sister, although only occasionally.

“It’s okay, it’s just what Dad used to call me. Kinda strange hearing other people say it even though it’s been three months. How lame is that?” Dot lets out a watery chuckle.

Shelby thinks of how she hasn’t visited Becca’s grave yet, the guilt and fear always enveloping her until it makes her sick and she has to turn around at the front entrance of the cemetery. She wonders if she’ll ever get to, if they’ll ever get off this island. 

“Oh, Dot. No one’s expecting you to be okay. Grief’s not some linear thing you can check off a few boxes for and be done with it,” She hears her voice getting thick as she wills herself not to think of Becca. 

“I know, I know. It just really fucking blows sometimes.”

Shelby takes a deep breath, “I know you’re not the most comfortable with hugs, but can I give you one now?”

Dot looks at her, eyes blazing in the orange glow of the fire, and nods. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

But when she leans forward, Dot grips her shoulders like Shelby’s anchoring her to the ground. It lasts for a second and then another, before Dot pulls away. Shelby gives her the courtesy of looking away as she wipes away the tears that fell onto her cheeks.

They all spend a little bit more time around the fire, just talking and enjoying each other’s company, but eventually people start turning in to go to bed. It’s hard to tell time on the island so even though the sky is completely dark above her, Shelby really doesn’t know how late it is. Maybe it’s a blessing, only tracking time by when the sun rises and sets, and where it is in the sky during the day, there’s no alarm clock waking her up on the beach, but at least a watch could be nice. 

Fatin is the first to go, citing her level of alcohol consumption, even though they all know she’ll wake up the next morning completely hungover-free. Leah follows her and soon after, the twins do too. Martha, after dozing off at least four consecutive times, finally gets up and Toni leads her away from the fire, half-carrying her. Then, it’s just the three of them: Toni, Dot, and herself. Shelby wills Dot to relax, to go to sleep, so she can spend uninterrupted time with Toni, not worrying about controlling her reactions when Toni says something. 

The fire dies out, slowly, the warmth it provided dissipating into the air, until it’s only glowing embers. It doesn’t stop Dot from staring into them for what feels like hours, her eyes glazed over in a blank stare but her knee bouncing almost uncontrollably. Finally, blissfully, Dot stands. 

“Y’all gonna be alright to put the fire out if I go sleep?” she looks between the two of them, still sitting on opposite sides of the fire.

“I used to take care of our fire all the time when Daddy and I went hunting together.” Shelby hears herself say. She tries to keep her voice in check, not to sound overeager or anything else that would give away the fact she’s .03 seconds away from jumping Toni’s bones and desperately trying to regain control of herself. 

“Yeah, okay. Just pour some ocean water before the embers cool down, don’t want our camp going up in flames-Texas summer style.”

“Yes, sir,” Toni gives Dot a half-serious salute which they all laugh at.

“Goodnight guys,” and with that, Dot turns and walks back to their campsite. 

“So our last chaperone just left so that means no more adult supervision,” Toni says, sauntering over to where Shelby is sitting. 

“Are you suggesting we take part in certain inadvisable activities?” She can’t help the thrill that swoops through her body. 

“I’m not not suggesting that, especially since I’ve had to watch you across this fire for the past three hours.”

“Aw, poor baby,” the pet name slips out of her mouth before she can stop it. Strange, since she rarely called Andrew anything other than his name. 

Before she can say anything, Toni looks up at her, eyes a little wide. “I liked that,” she says, shyly. 

“It’s been so hard to not kiss you,” Toni says as she straddles the piece of driftwood Shelby’s been sitting on for the past few hours, so much that she thinks her left buttcheek is asleep.

“Would you still kiss me even if the last thing I ate was seagull meat?” Shelby jokes.

“Hey, I was the one to kill the seagull so it’s local, homegrown fresh,” Toni looks at her, over the top of her knee that’s bent so she can half-lean, half-perch against the wood. “But, yeah I would.”

Maybe it’s the tiny amount of warmth she can still feel from the embers, or it’s the third time in a week her stomach’s been full, or maybe it’s the small, sincere smile Toni gives her right before she leans in to kiss her, but Shelby falls a little bit in love. Maybe she never stood a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, chapter 2! Honestly this took a lot longer than I wanted it to take but oh well! 
> 
> Again, the rating is explicit for a reason, but really it's soft. 
> 
> (You can't tell me Toni and Shelby wouldn't sneak away every chance they got to bone if the shark attack didn't happen.)
> 
> Please forgive the truly awful amount of commas in here, they're my emotional support punctuation mark (all mistakes are mine)
> 
> Enjoy! (Angst is coming next, but with a happy ending)

Once she’s sure Dot has settled down and is fast asleep, Shelby moves to sit on the ground, closer to the fire, so her back is able to rest against the driftwood she was previously sitting on. Her legs stretch out and her toes feel the last licks of heat from the dying fire, just a few glowing embers amongst the smoldering ashes. She thinks of all of the lectures on fire safety from the times she’s gone hunting, but the warmth on the soles of her tired feet feels too good to move them away. The light blue nail polish she applied weeks ago (months, really) has chipped off, so now only her first two toes have any color on them. She hadn’t reapplied, even though Fatin has a whole collection of paint colors, it’s nice to see the pale pink of her toes, natural without any modifications. Shelby tries to remember the last time her toes weren’t painted, but between pageant seasons, the Texas summers where wearing sandals and other open-toed shoes are a necessity if you don’t want heat stroke, and Becca’s obsession with including pedicures during their sleepovers, she can’t remember exactly, but several years at least.

Toni moves to sit down next to her and they end up sharing Shelby’s jean jacket, using it as a blanket on the sand. Immediately, Toni moves her leg so it’s resting on the top of Shelby’s knee and her skin starts to tingle. From the position, it looks like Shelby somehow grew a third leg, Toni’s darker skin contrasting with hers, even in the moonlight. Even if she stops herself from making a short joke, Shelby can’t help the giggle that escapes her mouth: Toni’s leg, being shorter than hers, doesn’t even reach her ankle. The dark hairs of Toni’s leg tickle Shelby’s calf and she shifts her knee, just a little, but keeps their legs connected. 

She thinks about the blonde hair on her own legs, it’s probably the longest it’s been since her mother taught her how to shave, as a present for her ninth birthday. Her legs have been shaved, waxed, and otherwise hairless for the majority of her life, so it’s strange to let herself (and her leg hair) to just exist on the island. In the early days, Fatin would let her use the spare razor she brought, but after the third week, it hardly seems worth it at all. Most of the other girls gave it up as well (Shelby doesn’t think Toni or Dot shaved in the first place), except for Fatin, who told them the only reason she still shaved was because her mom wouldn’t “let me get laser hair removal until I turn 21.”

Toni’s hand pulls Shelby out of her thoughts, specifically the movement from clutching at her arm to rubbing light circles on her thigh, and it’s innocuous enough, but all of the air leaves her lungs in a rush. Frankly, it’s embarrassing how easily and quickly Shelby falls apart when Toni does something as innocent as touching her thigh. She knows it’s more than that though; she notices how often Toni gravitates towards her touch, not only when they’re alone but in front of everyone, as subtle as she can, in the way their fingers brush if Toni hands her a water bottle or the way sometimes Shelby wakes up and her ankle is pressed against Toni’s, the other girl still fast asleep, barely there, but just enough. Something’s changed within herself, too. She finds herself clinging onto those little touches like a lifeline, waiting for Toni to reach out, to assure herself the first time wasn’t a mistake, to assure herself Toni wants this, wants _her_. Because even though she’s talked to Toni about it multiple times and thought about it, and prayed, sometimes, when her mind gets too dark, there’s a part of her that whispers _tricked, deviant, sinner_ in the back of her mind. And she’s trying, okay? It’s not exactly easy unlearning a belief system she’s been taught her whole life. 

She half-sighs, half-yawns, allowing her head to tilt back and look at the constellations blinking back at her and Toni. Leah was right, Shelby thinks, if she continues to look up at the sky and let the rolling sound of the ocean drown out all of her thoughts, allowing herself to forget the reality of sitting in the sand, curled next to Toni, it’s basically like she’s back in Texas, stargazing with Becca in her backyard. Only instead of fire ants and grass that scratches at her skin, there’s sand hoppers and sparse patches of wispy, tall grass fifty feet behind their campsite. Not to mention, there’s a different short, curly-haired brunette girl, whose head is resting on Shelby’s shoulder. 

Up until now, Toni has been suspiciously quiet so Shelby really shouldn’t be surprised when Toni pulls back to ask her a question. 

“Do you think Fatin and Leah are banging?”

Except whatever question she was expecting Toni to ask, the one she actually asks is nowhere near it, so much so that Shelby think’s she misheard Toni. It’s only when Toni repeats the question that she realizes what she heard the first time was, in fact, correct. Still, it takes her by surprise, nonetheless.

“Excuse me?” 

“Come on, you really think Fatin can last this long without an orgasm,” Toni pokes her leg and Shelby can’t help the way her cheeks darken, something Toni obviously delights in. 

“Didn’t you see the way Fatin reacted when Leah said she was bi? I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen her look at her toothbrush like that. Plus, Leah was giving her some major fuck-me eyes.”

“What makes you say that?” And it’s not as if she’s embarrassed (well, maybe she is a little), but it feels strange to talk about her friends like this, like she’s invading their privacy, the little they have, considering they’re on an island with other teenage girls.

“Because it was the same look you were giving me all night,” Toni says into her ear, low and hot, and now that it’s just them sitting around the fire, Shelby doesn’t even try to hide the shiver that passes through her entire body. It feels like her senses are moving into overdrive as if to make up for the past few hours when all of her movements down to her breathing were controlled and calculated, precise so the others wouldn’t notice. And, it seems, her body is just now realizing how close Toni’s mouth is in proximity to her ear, her neck, her lips.

Toni moves her hand up Shelby’s thigh and squeezes gently and immediately, the placement of her hand isn’t so innocent as it was seconds ago. All of the air leaves Shelby’s lungs in a rush and she concentrates on the sound of waves or the constellations out on the ink-black horizon, anything to keep Toni’s hand exactly where it is on her leg. 

“What look am I giving you now?” she asks because she’s not going to let Toni have the satisfaction of riling her up.

Maybe it’s because they’re sitting around a fire that’s basically a few embers within some ash and dust, but the look Toni gives her, with her pupils so blown her eyes look almost black, is all hunger. Shelby’s seen before, of course, but it still makes the air in her chest hitch from the intensity of it, the pure, unadulterated want. 

At first, Shelby thinks Toni is going to shoot back a witty response, but the other girl just glances at her lips. Then, Toni grabs her hand and they’re standing up and trekking across the beach to the other side of the outcropping of rocks, about ten meters from their campsite and where the rest of the girls are sleeping.

Shelby’s back hits against the rock and Toni surges up to connect their lips, her hands gripping Shelby’s waist. This is what she’s waited for since the last moment they had alone together was two days ago, but there’s something in the back of her head, a thought that’s preventing her from fully sinking into the kiss. 

“Wait, Toni,” she pulls back. It’s amazing how breathless she sounds from less than ten seconds of kissing.

“What about the fire? We told Dot we’d take care of it.”

Toni lets out a noise that sounds like a half-groan, half-growl (which shouldn’t be attractive as it is). “Fine, but only because I don’t want Marty turning into a piece of toast.”

She kisses Shelby one more time, as if to say goodbye, and stalks back to the fire, Dot’s small penlight dancing across the sand. Shelby watches as Toni (and the light) move around the fire until Toni pours water from the bucket they designated for ocean water over the fire. She can’t hear the hiss of the water hitting the hot wood or see the last of the smoke rising away, but she imagines it. The light makes repeated jerking movements as Toni mixes the wet ash together with a stick. They really can’t risk the chance of a stray ember catching fire again in the middle of the night and with the 2nd lighter Shelby found, luckily they can afford to put out the fire every night, rather than assign shifts to keep watch over it during the night. The penlight turns off again and Shelby can only see the outline of Toni’s silhouette, moving around in the dark. 

And then Toni is in her space again, kissing along her jaw and into her mouth. She can’t help the moan that escapes from her lips, not when it feels like Toni’s movements are explicitly trying to get her to react. Shelby presses back, anchoring herself against Toni, and cups the back of Toni’s head. Now that they’re away from the fire and Shelby’s back is leaning against the rock, the breeze blowing off of the ocean sends little chills through her body. Thankfully, Toni’s body is all heat and the hard muscle of her leg slotted between each of Shelby’s, sets her skin on fire. 

When Toni moves her hand under her bra to swipe her thumb over Shelby’s painfully hard nipple, bypassing her shirt completely, the noise that leaves her mouth almost sounds inhuman. She bucks into Toni’s hand, giving up any chill, semi-controlled image she might have been projecting earlier, and she feels the smirk Toni gives her against her own lips. 

“Toni,” she gasps, “everyone’s right there sleeping. What if they-” Toni bites on her neck and she stutters- “what if they hear us?”

“You mean what if they hear you,” Toni emphasizes. “Well then, you gotta be quiet.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t make Shelby wet. It’s not like they’ve haven’t talked about dirty talk before, but it’s different when Toni intentionally says things like that to get a reaction from her. She pulls Toni by the collar of her shirt, something that most likely surprises her judging from the low gasp she lets out, and presses their lips together. 

They stay like that, braced on the rockface, with Toni slightly on her tiptoes to reach Shelby (something she’s teased the shorter girl for numerous times), until Shelby feels like her legs have turned to jello and her underwear substantially ruined. As if Toni has read her mind, she pushes the leg that’s in between Shelby’s further into her core. Dizzily, Shelby knows Toni can feel the heat of her body against her leg and it makes her grind down even more. 

Toni pulls away from the spot just underneath Shelby’s collarbone, “Turn around.”

She obeys, resting her head against her forearm that's pressed on the rock face, and Toni’s lips flutter against the back of her neck. She shivers. Again, Toni slots her leg in between Shelby’s, but this time it’s more of a brace to steady herself. 

“Wanna to feel you,” Toni murmurs and it takes all of Shelby’s self control not to react.

“Yeah, okay,” she cringes a little at the simplicity of her words but then she’s not really thinking about anything else other than Toni’s hand slipping into the front of her ridiculous elephant-patterned boho pants.

“God, Shelby,” Toni says as her fingers swipe through Shelby’s folds. That’s something she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to, the soft reverence in Toni’s voice every time she touches her, as if she might break apart if Toni touches her too hard or too quickly.

Like her body is something holy.

She shudders as she feels the warmth of Toni’s body, her front to Shelby’s back, and lets herself relax into it, the feeling of Toni’s fingers moving lazily through her, in no real direction.

There’s a pressure in the small of her back and Shelby realizes it’s Toni’s leg, gently urging her forward, almost like she’s suggesting her to grind down onto her fingers, almost like Toni wants—

Shelby takes a deep breath and pushes forward, just a little, bearing down on Toni’s fingers and almost sobs in relief. The friction that wasn’t there before is now and Shelby cants her hips forward again, reviling in the way Toni’s fingers glide sloppily over her clit. She hears Toni suck in a breath, and notices the way the air gets stuck somewhere in her throat, affecting her as equally as much as it is for Shelby. Every time Toni’s thumb brushes over her clit, the tingling sensation across her body increases like small lightning bolts hitting her skin.

Behind her, Toni’s breathing has quickened considerably in her ear and Shelby knows it’s most definitely from the way her hips are moving, flush against Toni’s own leg, so she decides to put on a show. What kind of pageant queen (winner of Miss Southeastern Texas, no less) would she be if she didn’t know how to move her body?

The motion of Toni’s fingers is intoxicating so it takes her a minute to convince herself to stop and change her movements, switching from the natural up and down motion to a swaying, side to side, but the reaction Toni has is instantly rewarding: the groan from Toni’s throat is deep and Shelby feels the humming vibrations of it against the top of her shoulders. As Shelby continues to move, Toni’s hand (the one not currently touching her clit) darts out and grabs her hip, right where the bone juts out, guiding her movements. She can feel the fingers flexing against her skin, almost possessively, as if Toni is trying to hold her there. Shelby knows it’s not true, if she even hinted at being uncomfortable Toni would stop completely, but the idea of Toni selfishly wanting her for herself like a piece of favorite clothing stirs an unknown feeling of _something_ in her chest. Pleasant, but still, unfamiliar. 

Shelby lets her head fall back next to Toni’s, the tiny baby hairs on Toni’s forehead tickling her skin, and closes her eyes. She wouldn’t be surprised if their hair tangles together; since the whole hairbrush incident, Shelby hasn’t really brushed her hair other than running her fingers through it when it’s wet (or letting Toni do it when they’re alone). Toni presses the side of her head to Shelby’s temple, letting out slow, long breaths. She moves the hand on Shelby’s hip to ghost over her stomach, her fingers caressing the smooth, soft skin there. The white-hot intensity of Toni’s fingers on and inside of her is fading slightly, slowed down by Toni slowing down her own movements, but lights up instantly when Toni brushes her belly button piercing with her thumb. Frankly, the piercing is something she often forgets about, since she hid it from her parents after she and Becca got them in a studio two towns over last summer. However, the first time Toni found it when they were having sex and tongued at it, Shelby came so hard she nearly blacked out afterwards. 

Toni brushes the ball of the piercing with her thumb and Shelby’s hips jerk down, clenching around nothing. She lets out a little puff of air, mostly out of sexual frustration, and Toni, getting the hint, starts moving again. 

“I got you,” Toni whispers and presses a kiss into the soft line of Shelby’s shoulder, where it meets the conjecture of her neck, a mix of freckles, sunburn, and snowflakes of peeling skin there.

Subconsciously, Shelby rocks her hips downward again, unaware that Toni had moved her hand another inch or two, and the tip of Toni’s finger slides in, just barely, without any pretense.

Fuck, it takes her by surprise and she trembles. It’s nothing really, not more than an inch of Toni’s finger, just to the first knuckle, but she trembles all the same with how full she feels. 

But just as easily as it went in, Toni’s finger slides back out, moving with Shelby’s own movement.

“Toni, please—” She doesn’t know what she’s asking for, Toni’s fingers, to rock back against the hard muscle of Toni’s thigh, any sign of a greenlight, but somehow Toni does.

“I got you,” she repeats into Shelby’s neck. 

Toni finds Shelby’s other hand, hanging limply at her side, and brings to Shelby’s own hip. Hand on top of Shelby’s, she interlaces their fingers and squeezes once.

It’s the greenlight Shelby’s looking for. 

She starts moving her hips again and this time, there’s a frantic sort of energy that can only be associated with an endgame, the promise of orgasm. She jerks, sporadic and messy, until she finds the right rhythm, one that has her stuttering with effort against the heel of Toni’s palm.

Shelby takes and takes and takes, grinding against Toni, using her leg and fingers for the sole purpose of getting herself over the edge. The newly familiar pull behind her stomach tells her that she’s getting close, can feel herself approaching the crest—

Toni presses lower again until her body gives way and suddenly, there’s two fingers curling inside of her and God, she’s so full.

Her breathing comes out in strained pants and she’s trying so hard not to make a sound, but the stretch of Toni’s fingers is almost too much.

“Toni, I—” Shelby chokes out, unable to say anything else without it becoming a babbling mess of sounds.

She turns and leans her forehead against Toni’s, sticky with sweat and exhaustion, with her mouth falling open. (Bizarrely, it reminds her of the old cats who used to feed on their back porch, tails twisting together while they ate.)

Then, Toni is there, kissing her, tongue sliding along Shelby’s bottom lip, swallowing the moan that leaves her mouth. She rocks into Toni’s palm, once, twice, legs shaking with effort.

Even though she knew it was close, the force of her orgasm takes Shelby by surprise, her clit pulsing almost violently against Toni’s palm.

Toni eases her fingers out of Shelby and the sudden emptiness causes her muscles to flutter around nothing. 

The relief and absurdity of it all, how she’s having crazy good orgasms and living her best life on this desolate, hellish island, is beyond her, and Shelby laughs, slumping bonelessly against the face of the rock. 

“Gosh, I really could get used to this,” because she absolutely can, swaying in Toni’s arms under the endless amount of stars winking back at them. It’s an odd, little dance, but more importantly, it’s theirs. 

“I’m always happy to help,” Toni hums, sounding blissed out in her own way. 

“Of course you are,” Shelby chuckles, nuzzling into the crook of Toni’s neck, just under her earlobe.

Toni wraps both her arms around Shelby’s waist and starts tracing meaningless patterns across her stomach: figure-eights, zigzags, a few geometric shapes. It tickles and Shelby almost relaxes into the touch until she realizes Toni is dragging her still-wet (!!) fingers on her skin and then it’s like she didn’t orgasm at all. The comforted, dazed feeling leaves and is replaced by heat and the desire for Toni to be pushed up against the rock, gasping. How strange her life is where that’s completely possible.

Shelby turns around, almost giving herself whiplash in the process, and pulls Toni forward by her shirt collar. Normally, Shelby would find it ridiculous to wear, or even bring, a long-sleeved shirt but the weather on the island is so sporadic, with the windy, freezing nights and the sudden, torrential thunderstorms it’s almost necessary. She can’t imagine what would’ve happened to them if they hadn’t found Fatin’s suitcase full of clothes. Frankly, she doesn’t want to either; Dot wasn’t kidding about the whole ‘death by exposure’. 

Toni lets out a muffled, surprised noise, her lips unmoving on Shelby’s for a second, before sinking into the kiss. It’s tricky since the sand shifting underneath them isn’t good for stable footing, but Shelby manages to turn them both around while still keeping their mouths connected. 

Shelby finally gets one hand in Toni’s hair and one pulling at her waist and this, this is what she’s been waiting the whole night for: nevermind the kissing, just to be close to her, to feel her frantic heartbeat pounding underneath her skin, to graze her fingers over the parts of Toni’s body she’s not permitted to touch during the day. 

She runs her fingers lightly along Toni’s collarbone as if she’s playing the piano and Toni, honest to God, shivers. Every time something like that happens, Shelby still gets a tiny bit awestruck, can’t believe that _she’s_ the one touching Toni like this.

Her hand moves from Toni’s waist to her hips and fumbles with the hem of her shirt; Shelby can feel the muscles twitch under her fingers. She has no real intention of taking Toni’s shirt off but apparently, Toni has other ideas because as soon as Shelby’s thumb runs over the patch of skin just under her belly button, her hands scrabble at her sides, pulling at her own shirt.

“You can take this off,” Toni says.

And Shelby wants to, except—

“You’ll get scratched by the rock.”

“I don’t care,” Toni takes in a shuddering breath, “God, I don’t care, Shelby, just—” the rest of words get swallowed as Shelby surges forward and kisses Toni.

Nothing prepares her for the needy, breathless way Toni says her name, the way Toni pleads with her (almost like she’s begging) and Shelby gets a headrush just thinking about it. 

“Okay, yeah I can do that,” she says, reaching again for the bottom of Toni’s shirt. 

The shirt is already passing the tops of Toni’s abs when she’s says, “Oh, I’m not wearing—”

Illuminated by moonlight, the outline Toni’s bare chest stares back at Shelby. Her throat goes dry, and even if she can’t see all of Toni’s body, the full moon provides enough light and her imagination can piece together the rest. As her eyes rove over Toni’s front, the other girl clears her throat softly, and the part of her brain not consumed by (various, explicit) thoughts about the situation in front of her, realizes Toni is waiting for her to say something. She also realizes a week ago, she wouldn't know what to say. Hell, the person she was during the first few days would have never been in this situation in the first place.

Toni shifts on her feet, nervous.

“Well, I, for one, am all about convenience,” Shelby breaks the silence and it’s easy.

Toni laughs, the tension leaving her shoulders. 

“Come here,” Shelby says quietly.

She pulls Toni in close by the drawstring on her basketball shorts and moves her hands to cradle Toni’s face. Their foreheads rest together and Toni’s hands automatically go to Shelby’s waist, closing the distance between their bodies. Although she’s still wearing clothes, and with Toni’s body against hers like this, Shelby can easily feel the hard outline of Toni’s nipple against her own chest. So she’s sure Toni can feel the same; whatever crop top she’s borrowed from Fatin is a flimsy excuse for a shirt anyways.

“I lo—I like seeing you like this, all relaxed and open,” Shelby trips over the word, doesn’t even want to mention it because it’s too soon and too expansive and what does a seventeen-year-old girl know about love? (Especially one like her).

If she hears Shelby’s mistake, Toni doesn’t comment on it, which she’s extremely grateful for. Instead, she gives a noncommittal hum, but Shelby feels her lips quirk into something like a smile. 

“Do the others know that the girl who threw her own pee at another girl was actually a big softie this whole time?” Shelby teases.

“Secret’s out,” Toni laughs but there’s also an undetectable note of sadness in her voice. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Before...back home, I messed up someone’s car, real bad. Like full-blown lost my shit.”

“Me too, about the vandalism part,” Shelby responds.

Toni gapes at her. 

She feels her stomach drop, the way it always does when she brings Becca into a conversation, even if indirectly.

“We’ll have to talk about it some other time. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” Shelby knows she’s rambling but she can’t help it, anything to steer the conversation away from Becca.

“Better get back to kissing, there’s only so many hours before the sun rises and I don’t know about you, but I want to make the most of it. Seize the day and all that, just like Jack and Davey. Well, I suppose what we’re doing is seizing the night, but that doesn’t quite have ring that seize the—”

“Hold on, you’ve seen Newsies?” Toni snaps out of her funk but still looks bewildered. 

“And you haven’t?” Shelby was under the impression that most people their age would have seen the show.

“Of course I have. Martha went through a phase—it’s not important. How do _you_ know about Newsies? I wouldn’t expect it to be the type of thing they’d show in God’s country.”

A month ago, Shelby would have been offended by Toni’s comment, but now it rolls right off of her. 

“My theatre group was rehearsing scenes for it, so I checked it out at the library and watched it on one of the computers there.”

“You little rebel,” now it’s Toni's turn to tease Shelby. “Well, I guess that’s for the best. I always thought the eye contact between Davey and Jack was a little too pornographic to be straight.”

“Excuse me?” She’s taken aback.

“You can’t tell me they didn’t fuck on some high rise scaffolding in the slums of New York,” Toni explains.

Her stomach flips pleasantly hearing the way Toni’s mouth curls around the explicative.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” what she doesn’t tell Toni is that she’d used to sit in the back corner of the library and rewind the kissing scene between Jack and Katherine, imagining herself taking the place of the actor who played Jack. Maybe she should have considered what that meant instead of brushing it off, oops.

Toni leans in, her lips ghosting over Shelby’s, “And what are you thinking about now?”

She sucks in a breath, because she really does enjoy the back and forth of their normal conversations, but there’s just something about how bold Toni can be that immediately settles in between her legs. And of course, she doesn’t want to be outdone, so Shelby tries to match Toni’s energy (and confidence) as best she can.

Like now, with Toni hovering centimeters away from her, she wants to be the one to close the gap, but then she thinks of something even better, something that will definitely give her the upper hand. (Because she’s realized, she likes power that comes with being in control.) 

Shelby takes another breath and tells the truth, tells Toni what she’s been thinking about since before they had dinner. 

“How good you’re gonna feel in a few minutes when I’m done with you.”

Toni’s reaction is everything she’d hoped it be: she lets out a strangled choking sound that could maybe also pass for a moan? Shelby’s not too sure, but it’s satisfying nonetheless, especially when Toni fists the back of her hair and jerks their mouths together. It should hurt but it doesn’t. Even if it did, Shelby is not sure if she would dislike the pain.

Now that Toni’s shirt is out of the way, Shelby takes it upon herself to kiss every inch of exposed skin she can (and then some). She starts with her neck, one of the places Toni is especially sensitive she’s noticed, kissing paths down to the base of the throat. There’s two freckles there that Shelby’s tongue runs over affectionately before moving onto the hollow of Toni’s collarbone. She sucks on the skin, just for a moment, and Toni’s hand, the one that’s on her head, clenches around a fistful of hair. Toni lets go when Shelby releases a second later, her mouth making a comically loud popping sound. 

Shelby continues her descent down Toni’s body, but not before taking a detour to her shoulder and mirroring the soft kisses Toni gave her (when she does, Toni rubs her thumb on the back of her neck softly). By the time she’s eye-level with Toni’s sternum (if she could see it), hovering over her nipples, Toni is squirming underneath her hands. Honestly, it’s funny how quickly Toni turns to mush under her attention. Then again, if the roles were reversed, Shelby would be the exact same way; actually, she was the exact same way less than twenty minutes ago.

Toni tugs gently on her hair, apparently impatient, and if Shelby was cruel then she’d make Toni wait, but she’s not. She kisses the side of Toni’s breast and Toni lurches forward. Shelby can’t help but giggle against Toni’s skin. In the end, only a few moments pass before Shelby takes Toni’s nipple into her mouth, her tongue flicking against the hard bud. 

Honestly, Shelby should have expected it, but Toni swears. Loudly, at that. (Toni is playfully foul-mouthed under normal circumstances so when Shelby’s mouth gets involved, she becomes absolutely vulgar.) 

“ _Toni_ ,” she hisses and lightly hits her shoulder. “What was that about being quiet?”

“Fuck, I can’t help it,” Toni complains. And Shelby’s not really mad, on the contrary, she’s quite pleased with herself. But still, they don’t need one of the other girls waking up and noticing they’re gone. Knowing Leah and Martha and Dot, they’d start a search party in the middle of the night, which, being discovered, is not high on Shelby’s list at all.

“Well I learned from the best,” she whispers.

Toni groans and Shelby can feel the vibrations in her chest. “Isn’t it like a sin to be too proud?”

“The Bible’s full of contradictions, you know that. Besides, I’ve heard it’s different when you call it ‘being confident.’” Shelby gives the smart-ass comment right back to Toni.

Above her, Toni lets out a sigh of faux-annoyance.

“Basketball’s different.”

“Uh huh. You’re not really in a position to argue with me,” to prove her point, Shelby covers Toni’s other breast with her hand and squeezes.

“Holy shit, Shelby. Okay,” Toni says, slightly quieter this time.

She’s having too much fun with this. “Now you’re learning. I’m not saying you can’t react, just do it quietly.”

“Whatever, I’ll try. Can you just—” Shelby swirls her tongue around Toni’s nipple— “touch me. Fuck.”

“Someone really should wash your mouth out with soap, you’re horribly vulgar,” Shelby murmurs, in between pressing open-mouthed kisses on the tops of Toni’s breasts.

“Or you could just cover my mouth,” Toni grits out. 

Huh, Shelby hadn’t thought of that. It’s a good idea, so she takes Toni’s suggestion and stands up fully, her neck cracking a little from the odd angle. 

“Hi,” she says when she’s face to face with Toni again, not caring if she’s being a little shit (she totally is)

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said that. Ideally you’d still be—”

Shelby covers Toni’s mouth with her own, for what feels like the millionth time that night. (She’s not complaining and she doesn’t think Toni is either.) This time, however, now she’s the one pressing a leg in between Toni’s thighs, her skin sliding against the smooth material of Ton’s athletic shorts. Shelby uses her left hand (her dominant) to steady herself for a moment by cupping the side of Toni’s jaw, her thumb in the center column of her throat. She can feel Toni swallow heavily when her thumb lands in its position. When she removes her thumb, Toni sighs, almost like she was holding her breath. 

She figures it’s long overdue and so her hand makes its way down Toni’s front. Again, pausing to flick one of Toni’s nipples, simply because Toni’s reaction gives her joy and a certain type of satisfaction. Her hand lays flat on Toni’s abs, feeling the way they shift under her hand as Toni breathes heavily. A finger dips shallowly into Toni’s shorts, not even moving past the waistband, and Shelby hears Toni’s harsh intake of breath. The pressure has long since returned between her legs and hearing Toni react only sends another wave of heat there, her clit twitching occasionally. She can’t imagine what Toni feels like right now. 

Shelby hooks her finger under the shorts again, swiping a little bit lower, and this time Toni’s hips jerk forward. The third time her hand moves, she lets her hand stay in Toni’s shorts and she’s grateful for the stretchy material that tents around her hand. Much to Toni’s displeasure, Shelby still doesn’t touch her right away, just lingers above, her fingers brushing the soft, damp (she feels how wet Toni is without even directly touching her) hair there. 

“Fuck, Shelby. Stop teasing,” Toni whines. And God, she sounds absolutely _wrecked_. 

Shelby has half a thought to abandon all of her pretense and listen to Toni, but then again, where would be the fun in that? 

“I thought you liked it when I went slow,” she says into Toni’s ear, minding the way Toni bucks forward, trying to chase the feeling of Shelby’s fingers.

“Not this slow,” Toni shifts under her touch again. 

“Alright then, if you insist.”

At last, Shelby moves her hand to touch Toni, properly this time, and the instant her fingers glide through her wet heat, the other girl’s teeth scrape down onto her bottom lip. Shelby can’t help the small whimper of pain that escapes her lips, 

“Sorry…” Toni murmurs.

But it doesn’t matter because all she can focus on is making Toni feel good.

Shelby moves her other hand to grip the back of Toni’s thigh and lifts it, allowing Toni to hook her knee around Shelby’s waist, giving her better access. She thinks back to their first time, under the lychee tree, with all of the awkward angles and the constriction from Toni’s leggings as they figured out what positioning would work best for both of them. 

Now, she considers herself to be pretty good at the whole sex thing, if the way Toni’s underwear is soaked is any indication.

Shelby sets her hand on rock, next to where Toni’s head is resting, for balance. Their slight height difference gives her an advantage, a little extra momentum as her fingers thrust into Toni. 

“Jesus, Shelby,” Toni pants. 

“And the Holy Spirit makes three,” she can’t resist giving a smart answer, saying into the crook of Toni’s neck.

She hears Toni inhale, probably to respond with something equally as snarky, so she shifts her hand to be able to go deeper. Toni’s response never comes, instead she just lets out a soft moan, higher pitched than what Shelby’s used to hearing. Soon, the muscles around her fingers are tensing and releasing, and she knows Toni is getting close. 

With coordination she didn’t know she had before a week ago, Shelby starts to rub tight circles around Toni’s clit. 

“Shelby…” Toni trails off, high and needy. 

She knows what Toni is asking for, has noticed it from the way Toni readjusts her head right before she’s about to orgasm so she can lock eyes with Shelby, from the way their gazes meet in front of everyone else and Toni holds it, always for a little bit longer. She knows Toni is asking for eye contact, for Shelby to see her when she comes.

Even though it’s completely dark out, other than the full moon shining above them, and there’s really no real way for Toni to know if Shelby is looking directly at her, Shelby still moves her head from the place it was resting on Toni’s shoulder. She knows it’s more about the feeling anyway, that Toni is being vulnerable in a way that Shelby wants to reciprocate. 

She leans their foreheads together and Toni inclines her head slightly and then she’s shuddering against Shelby’s fingers and rocking her hips into the heel of Shelby’s palm. 

She’s so beautiful, Shelby thinks. 

Toni twitches underneath her fingers for a little bit longer before pulling away, letting out the same post-orgasm laugh that’s filled with relief. Then, she turns her head to the side towards Shelby’s hand that’s resting on the rock and presses her lips to the skin there, on the inside of her wrist. Shelby feels her own heart beating wildly under the lingering flutter of Toni’s lips and it’s so hot that it almost makes her want to go again. But she talks herself out of it, rationalizing they’ve already been awake way too long. There’s always tomorrow, she thinks. 

Toni finds her shirt in the sand, shakes it out, and they walk back to camp in a comfortable silence, mostly because Shelby really doesn’t want to wake anyone up and partly because she’s pretty sure Toni is still in a post-orgasm haze, distracting her from talking.

They lie down on the two cushions taken from Dot’s armchair and snuggle close together, looking up at the sky.

(Toni will move to her spot next to Martha before they fall asleep.)

It’s not long before Shelby notices Toni tracing patterns into the side of her ribcage again. At first, she thinks they’re just random shapes and patterns, but Toni’s movements are too controlled, her fingers moving intentionally along her skin. 

“What are you doing,” she whispers into Toni’s hair.

“Drawing the constellations,” Toni whispers back.

“I thought you said you never went to the planetarium.” Shelby shivers as Toni’s thumb grazes down near her lower ribs. 

“I didn’t, the day Martha went on the field trip she came back and told me as much as she could remember. And then we’d used to sit outside with her older brother and watch the stars. We even did it in the winter and made snow forts that opened to the sky.” Toni’s voice is filled with warmth.

“I saw you at dinner, pointed them out to her,”

“Yeah, Marty never got the hype like I did. It was hard for her to memorize all the shapes, the places in the sky, but she always liked the stories that came with knowing the constellations.”

Something inside Shelby’s chest constricts painfully and then loosens. She can imagine little Toni and Martha laying out snow, Martha sipping hot chocolate as Toni described the stars to her. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and suggest something....” Shelby tries to hide the way her voice shakes with nerves. “I know it’s you and Martha’s thing, but what if we went stargazing one night, just to have something for ourselves until we get back to civilization?”

Because even though they’ve been sleeping together the past seven days, she’s still nervous about this new level of _something_ that she’s proposing, so she adds, “You know, I bet the planetarium’s a real cheap substitute for the sky out here.”

Toni is silent for much longer than Shelby is comfortable for, just continues with tracing across Shelby’s skin.

Then: “Shelby Goodkind, are you asking me out on a date?” and her voice is soft and full of wonder and kindness and honestly, maybe Shelby could cry right now because even with all of her fumbling words and emotional baggage, it’s what she wants to do. 

“Only if you’re willing,” she meets Toni’s eyes hopefully.

“Of course I am. We just gotta schedule it around the family time circle-jerk or whatever Fatin wants to call it.”

Toni presses a tender kiss to Shelby’s cheek and she relaxes into the embrace.

Shelby falls asleep, imagining life where she spends her days with the other girls, laughing on the island and where she spends her nights with Toni, breathless under the twinkling constellations. 

But then, the next day, Leah staggers back to their camp, covered in blood.

Toni's blood.

And the fantasy shatters completely. Because, of course it fucking does.

Maybe that was her first mistake, thinking that a life like that was possible, that she deserved something like this, someone as good and caring as Toni. 

(Because didn’t she already have that with Becca? And look how she ruined that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr (@iamkidfish)<< my inbox is always open for fic prompts or just if you wanna yell about these characters!
> 
> Any comments and/or kudos is appreciated!! Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> How's that for the first chapter? I've never written a multi-chapter fic before
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr (@iamkidfish)<< my inbox is always open for fic prompts or just if you wanna yell about these characters!
> 
> Any comments and/or kudos is appreciated!! Thanks for reading :)


End file.
